"Then," said the Boarder beamingly, "the bay winder shall be cut out ter-morrer."
"Don't cut it out!" said Amarilly alarmed.
"I don't mean in a slang way," he said, laughing. "I mean cut out with a saw."
When Lily Rose was brought over one starlight night in budding May to see the beautiful aperture that would eventually become a bay window and face the solitary tree, two dewy drops of joy came into her eyes. Before them all she raised her pale, little face for a kiss which the Boarder bestowed with the solemn air of one pronouncing a benediction, for Lily Rose was chary of outward and visible expressions of affection, and he was deeply moved by this voluntary offering.
The Annex grew rapidly, but its uprising was not accomplished without some hazard and adventure. There was an exciting day when Cory fell through the scaffolding where she had been climbing. She suffered a moment of unconsciousness and a bump on her head.
"An inch nigher her brain, and it would have killed her!" exclaimed the mother in tragic tones.
"An inch of miss is as good as a mile," said the Boarder philosophically.
There was also a thrilling moment when Iry thrust his head through the railings of the new porch. Satisfied with his outlook, he would fain have withdrawn, but was prevented by an unaccountable swelling of his pate. Flamingus, coming to the rescue and working seemingly on the theory that his skull might be compressible, tried to pull him backward, but the frantic shrieks of Iry caused this plan of ejection to be abandoned.
"The rest of him is smaller than his head," observed Amarilly practically, as she arrived upon the scene and took a comprehensive view of the case, "Push him through, Flam, and I'll go around on the other side and get him."
Iry, safely landed in Amarilly's arms, laughed his delight, and thinking it a sort of game, was about to repeat his stunt of "in and out."